


if my heart was a compass

by cf_writer



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: A bit of a redo, Angst, F/F, Love/Hate, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2019-11-12 17:24:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18015170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cf_writer/pseuds/cf_writer
Summary: they don't hate each other, not really, they never could.orthe story of how roommates became enemies.





	1. chapter one

The second she gets out of the airport she feels a heavy weight lift from her shoulders.

It wasn't a necessarily tense flight, but she wasn't comfortable, either. The economy seats were no doubt the beginning of her long punishment. The Hartsfield-Jackson airport was as crowded as she'd been told it would be, and she'd also been told Alaric Saltzman would be waiting for her, which explained the surprisingly attractive middle-aged man holding up a handmade sign with her name scrawled across it. The photos in the brochure didn't do him justice. 

It takes him a little longer to notice her, but when he does she's greeted with a warm smile. She can tell he's trying too hard to make a good first impression and she wonders if every new student gets so much attention from the Headmaster. He offers a hand, but when she keeps her arms crossed, he stuffs them in his jacket pockets.

"Penelope, it's nice to meet you." 

“Yeah," she mutters and gives the teacher her best, false smile. If her attitude phases him at all, it didn't show. 

“Let me take your suitcase,” he offers, and picks the bigger of the two, leaving Penelope with just her carry-on and her purse. “How was the flight?”

"Long," she says with a shrug of her shoulders because there's not much to it beyond that. 

They walk together quietly and she's no doubt lured into a false sense of security because eventually he was bound to start talking again. They duck into the car and finally, she takes a breath and lets the fake smile fall from her aching cheeks. He uses the moment to approach her again while loading the suitcases into the trunk, but this time he gets straight to the point. “Look, I’m not sure how much you were told, but I think you’ll find you enjoy yourself with us.”

Penelope rolls her eyes. 

“I know you don’t believe me,” he says, and she wonders if he has the same speech for every new recruit. The templates the same, but perhaps he just replaces their names and species for a personal effect, “but it’ll feel like home eventually. It’s a small town, and everyone looks out for each other. It may be a little bit of a culture shock at first, but after the initial adjustment, it’s a nice place to live.”

“You’re right,” she tells him. Alaric looks to Penelope, studying her face as if trying to discern how much work she's going to be. She makes a show of digging around in her purse and pulling out her earphones, “I _don’t_ believe you.”

She turns her music up and stares out of the window, she can see Alaric in the reflection and the corners of her mouth turn up at his small glare of disapproval. 

It's a short drive from the airport, the deserted streets help and that's something she's never really seen before. There were hardly any vehicles sharing the roads and she could count the number of streetlights on one hand. She hoped the peaceful nature of the drive meant she would be able to enjoy some quiet for the last leg of her journey, but even that didn't last, and once they crossed into Mystic Falls they began their approach to the boarding school.

Alaric couldn't seem to help himself. 

“So, given you’re not in the mood to talk, how about I just explain a few things?” She had a feeling that she was going to end up hearing more from him regardless of what her answer was, and sure enough, he continued, “It’s my understanding that you haven’t been attending class since the start of your Sophomore year, so while you’re here my primary concern is going to be your attendance. Easy enough, right?”

She doesn’t answer, but her silence doesn't seem to phase him. 

"We can put the behavioral problems to one side, for now," he pauses and she can tell that he's watching her in his peripheral vision for any kind of response, "but there _are_ rules and you will follow them, Penelope.”

“Whatever.” She snaps, desperate for some kind of a break. She'd have an easier time with a therapist. 

"Give it a chance, that's all we ask." 

"And what if I still want to go home?" Penelope asks, and Alaric just gives her a knowing look. She knows it doesn't make a difference. She can like it or hate it, but either way, she's stuck here.  

 

 

 

 

 

They finally turn onto a gravel road and there she recognizes the grounds from all the pictures she'd spent hours examining every night in lead up to her flight. In the distance, she could make out a small group of students running together in single file along a small pathway that carved around the grounds. At the center and in the heart of the forest, the jewel to which all the rest was just a background setting, stood the tall building she knew as The  _Salvatore_  Boarding  _School for the Young_  &  _Gifted._

She hides an amused smirk when she realizes how quiet it seems. It was practically a ghost town, which was pretty appropriate considering the supernatural population, but it’s still alarmingly desolate and she’s reminded how far away she is from the closest city and the loud buzz of people and cars. 

It's pretty much everything she expected. She'd heard stories about the nice quiet American town with pep rallies and booster club banquets, and a different historical event every week. There was more to Mystic Falls, though. There are more stories, which most residents have no idea exist. It makes sense because there’s been so much blood spilled that no one would live here at all if they knew the truth.

A part of her wonders sometimes if it would be easier if she was a human and had lived a normal life, but her inner narcissist honestly gets a little kick out of knowing she’s superior and while she’s not strictly allowed to do magic openly anymore, she knows it’s not something she can live without. Magic is part of her identity, one she’s proud of.  

They stand outside the car while she lets her ‘chauffeur’ unload her suitcases from the trunk and she notes the lack of welcoming party. 

“What do you think?” Alaric asks when he’s locked the car, and he gets this look in his eye when he stares up at the school as if it was something special — but it’s not exactly Hogwarts — so it must be a personal kind of adoration. She read up on his background and she knows his connections to the Salvatore's. It's sweet, she supposed, or sad, she can't really decide.  

She didn’t get the same vibe.

“Honestly?” She says, letting out a short, dry laugh, but Alaric just turns to her and smiles as if it was genuine and friendly. It unsettles her a little so she gives the Headmaster her brightest false smile. “It smells like cow shit.”

He lets out a chuckle and shrugs his shoulders, “it’s called fresh air, Penelope.”  

It’s not the reaction she was going for, so she settles with grudgingly following Mr. Saltzman with her purse in hand, and eyes on the floor watching her step as her heels dig a little too far into the ground. Penelope hadn’t thought through her heels and she’s pretty sure that’s all she’s packed. She hopes there’s somewhere in town she can buy more appropriate footwear, and preferably a brand from _this_ decade. 

Once inside, she becomes a little more self-conscious. Penelope had felt like an outsider from the moment they’d entered the county limits, but standing in the beautiful traditional grand entrance, sporting heels, a short skirt, and hoop earrings, she felt more out of place than ever.

Alaric manages to make it worse somehow. 

She was beyond over this induction and couldn’t care less about the grounds or its history, but that doesn’t stop Alaric from talking all the way to his office. Somehow he doesn’t run out of breath and it’s a crying shame. She gets it, the Salvatore’s are _great_.

“So, you’ll be sharing a room with Josie,” Alaric says and she stops walking in the middle of the corridor, he turns to watch her face while she tries to comprehend his last statement, and then he seems to add, “my daughter,” for additional clarification, as if _that's_ her biggest concern. 

And when she looks up at him, he seems completely at peace with her alarmed expression and she finally couldn’t keep silent.

“I thought I was getting a private room,” she says, and it’s not really a question because that was one of her terms for agreeing to study at the boarding school.   

Alaric looks both surprised that she’d spoken and confused by what she’d said. “Well… I spoke to your father and he agrees that sharing a space with someone your own age might do you some good. And I’m confident that _both_ my kids will have a positive influence on you.”

His hand squeezes her shoulder and she shrugs it off quickly because he’s definitely not dumping her on someone else, not that easily. She’s already been handed over to one stranger today.

“I’m sharing a room with your _daughter?_ ”

“We’ve already rearranged the beds to put a spare in Josie’s room, so don’t worry about not having your own space.”

“Oh, so we’re not sharing a bed?” She asks rhetorically, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Okay, cool. _Now_ it’s okay for me to share a room with a total stranger.”

Alaric laughs loudly and abruptly, his voice booming through the air and she’s pretty sure this is the most entertaining thing that’s happened in his life for a while. “Go on in,” he tells her and gestures at the door a short distance away 

He’s got his hands full with her suitcases, and apparently she’s more worried he might drop something valuable, than looking where she’s going, because she ends up slamming her shoulder into someone and feeling like a dick.

There’s a muffled curse before she even gets a look at who she hit.

“Watch it,” the girl says, and when Penelope glances over she sees a girl around the same age as her, who looks equally as unimpressed with the situation. She notes the way her eyes narrow when Alaric gives her a small smile, and she's pretty sure she's not the only one who's been misled. At least she's not the only one who blames Alaric for this mess.

They just stand there for a few moments and Penelope honestly doesn't know what the fuck to do but thankfully Alaric clears his throat and the girl snaps right out of whatever trance she was in and her lips immediately purse.

“Penelope, this is _Lizzie_ , my daughter,” Alaric says, gesturing to the blonde that still seems to be weighing her up. And all she can think is, thank fuck. This _isn’t_ her roommate.

And when neither of them has anything to say, he simply sighs. The temperature in the office must fall twenty degrees with the way Lizzie studies Penelope, but she meets her with equal force and she realizes that Alaric's daughter has a resting bitch face that resembles the expression of someone peeing in a hot tub and getting away with it. She’s never seen someone so smug over nothing at all.     

"Penelope's our new addition," he continues, hoping to trigger some kind of response from his daughter that he never gets. 

Instead, Lizzie huffs and folds her arms.

She doesn't know what she's done to insult the girl, but she's doing a stand-up job. Alaric must sense the tension, because he breaks the silence by turning to his daughter and asking, “Lizzie, can you show Penelope to her room before dinner?”

The suggestion seems to rub Lizzie the wrong way because she makes her fatigue known with a heavy sigh, apparently, she hadn’t signed up for this pathetic welcome party, and the thought makes Penelope grin. Somehow Lizzie manages to force a matching smile that seems almost painful.

"Please, Lizzie," Alaric asks, his tone a little more forceful.

“Follow me.”

“Than you,” Alaric sighs before he settles on his desk and starts shuffling papers like he has something better to be doing. 

Lizzie turns away from them both, her movements as sharp as a drill sergeants and their shoulders collide briefly when the blonde moves to grab the smallest of her suitcases, leaving Penelope to carry the larger, and she’s pretty sure that’s karma for abandoning Alaric at the car.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Please keep up," Lizzie tells her, her voice floating from one of the dark, small doorways cut into the wall and Penelope plunges into the darkness after her. 

The darkness turns out to be a grand wooden staircase, which leads to more hallways. There was still hardly any light and she notes how the windows were tiny slits in the tall paneled walls. It figures, the building was built for vampires, among others. 

Lizzie leads her down one passage, down another, up a short flight of stairs, down still another passage, made her way through a large open room filled with tables and chairs which would've been a nice change had the students who occupied the space kept their prying eyes to themselves, but then they were back to more tiny corridors soon enough.

There must have been an easier way, but she figures this was Lizzie's way of payback for the unwelcomed task.  

"So, you live here," Penelope notes, shifting her suitcase from one hand to the other. "Do you like it?" 

"You're here to find that out for yourself," the girl tells her, and then stops at one of many doors, stained oak with black iron fittings. 

Inside, the room itself wasn't actually as terrible as she imagined. At first glance, it was surprisingly large despite the _two_ single beds—a book left open on one—with carved wooden bedposts, a diamond paneled window blurred with dust, and a wardrobe that tilts slightly to one side like it's missing a leg. There's also a small pile of books on the nightstand that sits between both beds, and a nice big poster on the wall of Ryan Gosling above the bed to the left. 

In the middle of the room is also a new face that looks a lot friendlier than her escort.

“Here we are,” Lizzie declares, gesturing inside and Penelope can tell she isn’t quite sure how to handle her arrival yet. She’s pleased to know she isn’t the only uncomfortable one. Although she’s not sure how this affects _Lizzie_ in the slightest, besides the fact she’s sharing a room with her sister.

Speaking of sisters. Lizzie’s was _cute_.

Penelope doesn’t want to grin but she can’t fucking help it. The girl smiles at the sight of them, a dimple creasing one cheek. She might be the most adorable thing on the planet right now, and she’s surprisingly into the doe-eyed innocent look that her roommate has going for her. At first glance, she learns to appreciate the Salvatore uniform and it's easy to gather Josie as the type to go to church every Sunday and wait until marriage to have sex.

And while it was a relief to have a hot girl around, her brain and libido were a little conflicted by her presence, so it takes her a moment to realize Josie offered her hand for her to shake. “I’m Josie. Penelope, right?”

She totally forgets she has like, a voice, but then finally nods. “Yeah, hi,” and shakes her hand. It makes things feel unnecessarily formal but she goes with it because she doesn’t know how she’s meant to behave to get Josie to like her. She was completely out of her comfort zone, but she swears she has more game than this.

“Well, I don’t know if my Dad’s told you yet, but you’ll be staying in my room so if you have any questions, I’m the one to ask.”

“He told me,” she says, with an amused smile, and catches the growing smile on Josie's face and the pink in her cheeks.

Penelope feels herself blush and fights it back, clearing her throat.

She hears Lizzie interject with a scoff, “obviously,” and judging by the way Josie’s hand jumps away from her own, she forgot about their little _unwanted_ guest too. Lizzie doesn’t overstay her welcome, but she does give her sister a look before dumping Penelope’s suitcase by the door and then leaves without saying goodbye.

So, she’s already pissed someone off, it’s a new fucking record.

“Ignore her, she’s just annoyed that I switched rooms,” Josie whispers softly, and shrugs. It’s diplomatic. She appreciates that she’s trying to defend her sister, but she gets the feeling this isn’t just a random occurrence. 

“So, it’s _your_ fault I don’t have my own room?”

Josie has the decency to look guilty and Penelope decides her pout is cuter than her smile.

“Sorry,” she shrugs, her cheeks turn a darker red before she rushes over to the suitcases now lying forgotten by the door and carries it over to Penelope's bed, and now _she_ feels like the asshole. 

“It’s okay,” she tells her and smiles to defuse her roommates nerves. Penelope tries to see it from her perspective. She doesn’t know how much anyone’s been told about why she’s here, but she did show up wearing four-inch heels and an outfit that wasn’t exactly modest. She stands out like a sore thumb, she’d probably be intimidated by herself too.

While Josie is busy moving things around and making space, she's given a second to look around a little more, and she can’t help herself when she spots the ukulele that’s poking out from under one of the beds, “Do you play?”

Josie follows her gesture and her eyes shoot wide open. She hurries back and gently kicks the instrument until it disappears under the bed. It’s strange, but so is everything about this fucking town, so she doesn’t question it when her roommate forces a smile and says. “Long story.”

Penelope finds herself wanting to hear it.

Josie just glances at the floor and she can tell the girl is totally embarrassed, for whatever reason, and Penelope finds herself captivated she when pushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear when she clears her throat, “so, we should probably go down for dinner.”

“Yeah,” she shrugs, because she ate before her flight and cafeteria food honestly doesn’t sound that appealing.

“I can take you,” Josie says and Penelope just cocks her head and bites her lip, because honestly all she can think to say is  _please do._

A part of her wonders if Josie can read her mind, because she totally spoils her fun by making a short flustered gesture towards the door, "this way." 

She doesn't wait for Penelope to follow her, and she's left alone in the room. She stalls in the doorway for a beat and takes in the room. She already resents the lack of privacy, even if Josie seems pretty sweet. She takes one last look around, flicks her wrist and lets the door close itself, murmuring, “Fuck Ryan Gosling,” before trailing after her roommate.

 

 

 

 

 

The dining hall looks a lot like all of the other rooms in the school, it’s all floorboards and antique lamps, except on one wall there’s a massive carved mantelpiece, displaying the notorious emblem for the Salvatore Boarding School.

The tables were crowded by kids, most of them seemed to be around her age and she recognizes at least two faces. 

Josie was already sat by two other people, one being Lizzie, and a third member of their trio who was unfamiliar. The latter seemed to be the only one who noticed her standing by the doorway. She knew immediately that she wasn’t sitting anywhere near her. As much as she wants to get along with her roommate, she had no desire to try and fit in with her sister.

She scanned the rest of the room and attached labels to each of the tables. She quickly identified between the werewolf, vampire, and witch population and while not every group fit specifically within the stereotypes, most only consisted of three or four people and she had an eye for this kind of thing. 

Penelope was hesitant, because all of the tables had at least two people already occupying them.

So she thinks twice about dinner and wanders away from the hall, without noticing she was followed. 

 

 

 

 

 

The concept of enjoying the outdoors wasn't exactly lost on Penelope, she admired the subtle beauty in the foliage, or whatever. She just didn't necessarily like to spend her free time trekking through dirt, for _fun_. That being said, somehow through powers unknown, the sun was still shining in Virginia and she could do with soaking up the last remnants of Vitamin D she returns back inside the dungeon, because god knows when she’d get her next dose. 

Her feet carry her down one of the more worn paths that lead away from the school, winding through the trees. Her heels are frankly ruined at this point and beyond salvageable, but it doesn't discourage her.

She follows the track for as long as she can, until she loses track of time. Admittedly, it’s a refreshing change of pace from the city but she still wants to hurl solely from the lack of civilization. She’s not sure what she was hoping to find, but space helps put things into perspective. 

Eventually, the pathway opens up to a clearing. She notices the remains of a bonfire at the center, the ash dusting the ground along with empty cans and half-smoked cigarette stubs mixing with the mud. There's a cute set of fairy lights hanging between the trees and she figures it must be a party spot for the students.

So, maybe these kids _do_ know how to have fun.

There's a quick snap somewhere to her right and she knows its too heavy to be an animal.

So, like, what the fuck? Her foot stops just short of a half-empty glass bottle when she hears another crunch of a footstep, she looks up and scans the treeline, feeling a flicker of electricity spark in the center palm of her hand as the girl steps out. She doesn't unclench her fist. 

She recognizes her immediately as the third girl at Josie and Lizzie's table. The girls gaze flickers from Penelope's heels to her eyes, curiously studying like she's sizing her up. 

 Penelope stares back for a moment, because she's admittedly a little taken back with the girl's grace when she closes the distance between them, "hi?" 

“I’m Hope.” She says, and there's a silent pause. The name bounces sound in her head and she knows she's heard it before.  _The tribrid._ She gives her reaction away too quickly because the girl regards Penelope with a touch of amusement when her eyes widen ever so slightly. 

"So?" she says, and shrugs, because she doesn’t actively give a fuck about her own heritage much less someone else's, "You don't look like much." 

Hope just laughs and it's genuine, she's not sure what to do with that, "neither do you, Penelope."  

She knows her name, and she wonders what else Hope might know about her. 

"You followed me," She says, asking the silent question of _why?_

Hope shrugs her shoulder like it's obvious, but that still doesn't explain she's standing there. She tries to piece together why a total stranger might follow her into the forest over the girl she's supposed to share a room with for the foreseeable future. 

"So Josie sent you?" Penelope asks because she's already noticed that Hope was the third person sat at her roommate's table, "I saw you sitting with them." 

"Why aren't _you_ sitting with them?"

Penelope folding her arms across her chest, “I’m already her dad's pet project, I don’t want to be theirs,” and that seems like a good enough answer because Hope flicks her eyes away from her and towards the mess around the clearing.

“It looks better in the dark,” Hope mutters, half-heartedly gesturing around the space, but she doesn’t seem that convinced.  

“Really?” She scoffs, stifling a grin. 

They watch each other, waiting for the other's next move as they try to fight smiles, and smirks a quiet amusement in Hope's eyes and approval in Penelope's.

“No.” Hope laughs, and she lets herself join in. 

Once they stop laughing they mutually decide to head back towards the school grounds and they don't really talk. She appreciates that Hope keeps any questions she has to herself, and as they part ways at the entrance with a quick exchange of goodbyes, it dawns on Penelope for the first time since arriving in Mystic Falls, that she might have a shot at making friends here. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She stops at Alaric’s office and knocks because the lights are still on and she still doesn’t feel ready to return to her bedroom. She doesn’t really expect an answer, but he calls through the door and it lacks the exasperated tone her father always used whenever she interrupted him. It was a well-known rule in her house that nobody was allowed in his office, ever.

She flicks her hand and the doors push open and if the use of magic surprises Alaric, it doesn’t show. He doesn’t smile though. She got the whole spiel about magic being kept within the classroom, and she can see the way his disappointment reaches his eyes.

"Penelope," he says, watching her take in the room, and like the others, it's terribly lit. 

It’s a lot more tastefully decorated, all the furniture seems to match unlike most of the school that could've been furnished completely from an old person garage sale. There are photos of people she doesn’t recognize and she can tell he's well-loved, he's no stranger to the notion of family. And then she finds one of Josie and Lizzie, they’re younger and much cuter. 

“I don’t think my dad ever kept pictures of me in his office,” she says, trying to imagine the room but all she can muster is the image of certificates on the walls. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Don't be."

They were never close and she's never known anything else, so it's never felt like she's missed out on anything. 

“Do you want to sit down?” he asks, leaning away from the desk and the work that's scattered around. He looks busy, but there's a calming patience about him. Penelope's pretty sure that comes with the territory of teaching. 

She takes the seat across from the desk. 

They sit there quietly for a while and just when she thinks he has nothing to say, he clears his throat and asks, “what do you think so far?”

“I want to go home,” she says, shrugging a shoulder and he nods like he was expecting that kind of answer.

“I know, but give it a chance, it’ll get better.”

Penelope lets out a soft laugh and drops her head back against the back of the chair, she’s so sick of hearing that phrase, because honestly, does it ever?

“Do you really think I deserve this?” Penelope asks him, because he’s the only person there who knows what she did to wind up at the boarding school and for some reason, she wants to gauge whatever opinion he might have of her.

“We don’t allow students to use their magic outside of the classroom, so yes.” He says, absolutely, like it makes sense to restrict someone's natural instincts, “I do think this is the best place for you.”

“Since when is sending someone across the country and viable punishment?”

Alaric was silent for a beat, but eventually, he admits, “Listen Penelope, I understand that you’ve been through a lot, with your mother—”

“Don’t.” She says, and she narrows her eyes on him. She’s been more than accommodating and hell, even patient, but there are some things she won’t budge on.  

He puts his hands up in surrender and for a second she believes he’ll drop the subject, but he manages to disappoint her just like everyone else when he continues, “Whether you realize it or not, your situation has affected your behavior. You might be surprised to know how many other students are in a similar position.”

“I _still_ don’t want to talk about her,” she snaps, swallowing down the hard lump in he throat. She felt stupid to come here, stupid for coming to Mystic Falls, but especially stupid for coming to talk to Alaric.

“We’re here to help you. But you need to work with us.”

“Over my dead body.” She says, her voice sharp.

He purses his lips together and she finally sees the resemblance between him and his daughter. She decides to leave it there before he can say anything else and he doesn’t try to stop her, but she does hear a faint, “Goodnight, Penelope,” and fuck him for getting in her head.

 

 

 

 

 

Penelope ducks into her room she hoped it was late enough that Josie will be asleep, but she finds her sitting on her bed with a book open on her lap. It's late and she can tell that Josie is the type with a bedtime, so she wonders if she stayed up waiting for her. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

It hits her that she’s not sure what she’s supposed to do now. She’s never shared a room with anyone before, hell she’s not shared much of anything. If she wasn’t so tired she’d try and get started on unpacking her bags, but she has _just_ enough energy to unzip the first and dig around for something comfortable to sleep in and even that was a struggle.

"I didn't think you were coming back," Josie says behind her, quietly. 

Penelope pauses, but he finds herself answering honestly, "I didn't want to." 

She doesn’t think about asking if it’s okay to change in front of Josie until she’s already stripped down to her panties and she hears an actual squeak from her roommate who is totally frozen, like an adorable deer in headlights.

She’s staring down at her book, and Penelope’s pretty sure she’s reading the same sentence over and over because those pretty brown eyes aren’t moving. It's cruel, but she moves slower after that, making a conscious show of choosing which shirt to wear, occasionally glancing back to find Josie diverting her eyes.

She doesn’t comment and simply enjoys the way Jodie’s cheeks flush and her brows furrow. 

“Reading anything good?” She asks and maybe she shouldn’t be so smug about it, but it’s the first time since she arrived that she’s found something _fun_.

Josie just hums, her cheeks bright red when she turns the page, and honestly, it’s like she’s never seen a pair of tits before. She twitches anxiously and her attempts to look anywhere but at Penelope are painstakingly obvious.

It seems unfair to torture her, so she eventually pulls on an old shirt she's had since middle school and steps into a pair of shorts, and only then does Josie start to _breathe_. It’s cute and abundantly clear that her assumptions have been correct so far.

Penelope cleans up her side of the room as best she can, but her best is mostly dumping her clothes in a pile until she can organize everything properly in the morning. She's not anal about keeping things in order, but there's limited space in the room already, without her shit all over the place.   

“Where did you go at dinner?”

Penelope looks up because she’s surprised to hear Josie speak, and even more surprised to find her looking right back at her.

“Wasn’t hungry,” she shrugs, because it’s true, but she also doesn’t feel the need to explain everything she’s currently feeling to a stranger.

“Well, you could’ve sat with me, in case you thought you couldn’t,” Josie tells her, and she’s blushing again, but Penelope can’t tell why she’s embarrassed. 

“I know.”

“Okay.”

She hopes that’s the end of the conversation, but when Penelope pulls out her phone, Josie sets her book aside, “you won’t get a signal up here, or most places on school grounds.”

Penelope doesn’t have the heart to tell her that it wouldn’t matter anyway, because she doesn’t have anyone to text, so instead she just holds up the screen that shows her iTunes account and hopes it’s enough to settle the conversation.

They don’t talk again until they’re settled in bed and Josie politely asks if she can turn off the light. Penelope just nods, turning her music up louder. Josie seems to give her a look through the dark, like she's trying to figure her out. She just closes her eyes and as best she can, pretends she’s back home in her own room, alone, and as far away from Mystic Falls as she can get.

It _almost_ works.


	2. Chapter Two

She’s a miserable bitch the next morning when an alarm blares for maybe ten seconds before Josie fumbles and finally shuts it off. Penelope keeps her eyes closed and listens to the sound of her roommate getting out of bed, but she stays put and when Josie gets closer, she pulls the comforter over her head with her face half-buried in her pillow. 

After a few seconds of footsteps padding around the room, she feels Josie’s hand tug on her comforter, “Hey Penelope, it’s time to get up,” she says but Penelope doesn’t move. There’s a long silence, and then she calls her name again, and huffs, “I know you’re awake.”

Penelope just grunts and burrows deeper into the comforter, “I won’t be if you stop talking.”

“You can’t stay in bed all day.”

“It’s the weekend, I’m pretty sure nobody will notice if I do.”

Josie lets loose an unexpected sigh in the silence and whispers, “I’ll notice."

Penelope feels the heat in her cheeks almost instantaneously and holds her breath until her roommate slowly leaves the room and pretends she doesn’t feel those words weighing down on her chest. She swallows hard. 

Realizing she couldn’t get back to sleep now, she yanks down the covers and rubs at her eyes and there’s feeling in her gut that she can’t shake. She lies there for a while, letting herself feel like shit, and then she counts.

_3, 2, 1…_

Then she’s on her feet and shuffling over to her suitcase and rummages through her clothes to find something to suitable to wear. She picks out a short but modest dress she’s never worn and a pair of boots with a  _small_  heel. Penelope gets so lost in organizing her wardrobe and trying to find space in their little room that she totally misses the door opening. She gets caught staring at Josie’s half-naked body. And it’s honestly really fucking hard to fold a shirt while there’s a hot girl standing a few feet away.

“What?” Josie asks and she must’ve noticed her looking a little too hard.

All that Penelope can do is smirk, her eyes flick up from Josie’s bare legs to her eyes and she catches the way her roommate shifts under the weight of her attention. Penelope does her best to adopt a matter-of-fact tone for her response and shrugs when she says, “I like your towel.”

“My towel?” Josie says and sounds totally unconvinced when she glances down at the row of tiny elephants marching around the border of the material.

“Yeah,” She nods and pulls her focus back to Josie’s face. It’s a darn sight more amused than she expected, and she bites back a grin.

Josie gets this little gleam in her eye and Penelope _really_ likes it, “I suppose it is kind of cute.”

“So cute,” she whispers, with as much gusto as she can summon.

They just look at each other for a few moments, and then Josie’s pressing her lips together and trying not to smile. Penelope’s composure cracks and they wind up laughing so hard that Josie _almost_ drops her towel and the adorable pterodactyl screech she lets out when she fumbles for the corner knocks Penelope’s breath right out of her.

“Close your eyes,” Josie tells her and she barks out another small laugh as her roommate’s cheeks light up.

Penelope retreats back to her bed, leaving the rest of her unpacking while Josie rifles through her own clothes, and she watches the little pout appear on Josie’s lips as she moves from one outfit to the next, woefully undecided.

She leans back against the headboard, crossing her arms, “You saw mine.”

There’s a second where she thinks that Josie actually might be considering it, but then she rolls her eyes and they narrow quickly after, “Close your eyes, Penelope.”

If it were anyone else, she’d feel scolded, but there’s a little curve to the corner of Josie’s lips and the tip of her tongue appears briefly.

Penelope takes a second to recover from where her mind disappears to and then she lets her eyes close. She hears Josie step closer, and closer again, deliberately checking to see if she’s followed her instructions, and for some reason, it makes her smile.  

“Are they closed?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“No peeking.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Penelope assures her quickly, feeling an odd flush creep up to her cheeks and she knows it deepens when she hears the heavy thump from the damp towel as it falls to the floor around Josie’s feet.

She feels something stir deep in her stomach and her breath catches. Penelope has to swallow several times and squeeze her eyes shut a little tighter to calm whatever had suddenly risen in her chest. She listens closely to the scratch the wooden drawer makes when Josie pulls it open and digs around inside.

Her mind wanders a little too far.

“Penelope?”

“Yes?” she hums, raising an eyebrow while the corner of her mouth twitches.

“You can look now.”

So she does and her eyes immediately fall on Josie, or mostly her dress, which stops mid thigh and it’s less conservative than she pictured. It has this long zip all the way down the back and Penelope gets caught staring but seriously, only this girl could somehow make floral print look _this_ attractive.

“Could you—” Josie cuts herself off to gesture to the zip that’s still hanging open against her back and she looks away all flustered, moving her hair to one side of her neck and out of the way.

“Okay,” she says automatically, before Josie gets a chance to change her mind and she crosses the distance to stand behind her. Penelope can just barely see the flush of Josie’s cheeks in the little mirror that hangs from the wardrobe. She shouldn’t find it so sweet when Josie raises her chin, as if in defiance of whatever feeling that’s causing the redness. There's an electric pulse in the tips of her fingers and Josie's spine looks so tempting, but she pushes down the urge to fuck with Josie some more and makes quick work of the zip.

She notes the flushed skin covered with goosebumps from the open air.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Penelope forces herself to look away and swallows the lump in her throat when Josie falters a little too. They both kind of step back and put some distance between each other and she just kicks herself for even getting so close. _She’s off limits._

 

 

 

 

 

They walk down to breakfast together and it occurs to Penelope that she _has_ to sit with her. She looks for an out as they cross over the threshold, her eyes scanning the room for Hope but she’s a no-show and she finds no other practical escape routes.

She’s left following Josie around like a lost puppy, but she gets some satisfaction when her roommate smiles at her and gestures to the chair opposite. She's _wanted_. 

They’re alone for a while and Penelope picks at her breakfast while Josie talks, telling Penelope about her life in Mystic Falls and about her family. It gets a little heavy at one point and she doesn't know why Josie trusts her with such important information. She learns that her biological mother isn’t the same Caroline Forbes that recruited her, but another woman called Josette Laughlin, who died. It should be more difficult to talk about but Josie just brushes it off. She goes on to talk a lot more about Caroline and the work she’s doing, and Josette isn’t brought up again.

Penelope feels a sudden churn of guilt in her stomach when she thinks about her own mom and if she could ever talk about her so dismissively.

She lowers her eyes at her plate and picks at the dry pieces of bacon she’s hardly touched and listens to more stories. Penelope learns more about Alaric and his specialization in history, and his controversial experience as a  vampire hunter—she wonders how a certain proportion of the school feels about that. She even gets a cute tidbit about Lizzie and her little habits that drew Josie to ask for a new room assignment.

Josie wanted independence and while she doesn’t say the word herself, it’s certainly implied.  

They almost get away with a nice, peaceful meal, but their conversation hits a lull and she looks up just in time to see the chair on her left being pulled back and there’s a familiar flash of blonde hair that appears in her peripheral vision.

“Hey. _Patricia_ , right?” Lizzie asks her, and she has to try really hard not to roll her eyes. There’s another girl sitting at the table who giggles, telling her it’s not an innocent mistake. She quickly remembers why she wanted to sit _anywhere_ else.

Penelope bristles. She was almost bitter that Lizzie didn’t have more of a creative outlet than lackluster mocking, she thought she’d found her sparring partner.  

She looks her dead in the eye when she shrugs and corrects her, “Pamela,” and her blunt tone makes both girls freeze.

“What?” Lizzie frowns, staring at her.

“It’s Pamela,” she repeats, slower this time, and she really likes the way Josie bites on her lip.

She can practically see the cogs turning, _slowly._  She catches the way Josie looks away to smile and at some point, she must feel sorry for them, because her hand shoots out to gently slap her sisters arm. Josie grins so innocently when she tells them, “ _Penelope’s_ joking.”  

Lizzie doesn’t laugh, neither does her friend.

_Penelope 1, Lizzie 0._

They fall into a silence that turns awkward almost immediately.

“Well,” Lizzie’s voice brings her back to this world and she can tell she’s provoked her, “You’re good enough to sit with us today?”

She really can’t seem to swallow her loss despite the unsalvageable wreckage. It makes Josie sigh and there’s that pout again, but she doesn’t do or say anything to intervene so Penelope’s left to grind her teeth and swallow down the irritation that’s just itching away.  

"I’m all about trying new things," she says lowly, because she just wants Lizzie to back off so she can eat her overcooked bacon.

Lizzie doesn’t seem to want to drop it though and she leans closer, her arms on the table, “So, Penelope. A little birdy told me you’re from Los Angeles.”

Oh. Well, fuck.

Penelope just looks up slowly, her eyes lock with Lizzie’s and she’s got this shit-eating grin. It’s not exactly a secret that she was born in California, but she hasn’t _told_ anyone yet, she hasn’t really told anyone anything about herself.

“Did your _daddy_ tell you that?”

“Lucky guess.”

Penelope knows she’s baiting her, but she still succumbs to it, “What’s your point?”

“I was just thinking, it’s a long way to come for a school. Does your dad miss you at all?” Lizzie stalls and smirks when she adds, “What about your mom?”  

Josie’s eyes go wide and she looks all scandalized. “Lizzie!" she hisses.

Penelope is simmering, almost boiling over with anger. At Lizzie. At herself. At all of this.

She’s usually good at controlling her temper, she lets it sit and fester. It’s her motivation. She’s a self-confessed control freak and deliberately ruthless, she doesn't run on wild instincts. Everything she does is on purpose. 

It’s a little too late when Josie attempts to run interference by whispering, “please drop it,” and grips her twin's arm. Under any other circumstance, it might have been cute, but it doesn’t make her feel better. The storm of emotions rages on in her chest as she rises to her feet.

“I’m fairly certain you don’t know anything about me,” She snaps, all indignant.

“I know a lot more than you think,” Lizzie says and they’re a breath apart, almost nose to nose.

She feels a white-hot rage take over and she feels that spark in the palm of her hand, but she can see Josie’s desperate expression in the corner of her eye. She’s maybe a second from just torching every blonde strand on her head.

Penelope can feel the eyes of every other student in the room, but there’s only one pair that actually matter, and she’s so relieved when Hope finally arrives and slides in between them. It gives her some space to breathe and she uses the distraction to bolt from the room. Penelope tries to ignore the way Josie calls after her, and swallow down the sting when she gets out into the hallway and realizes that’s all she does.

 

 

 

 

 

“I’m starting to think you like following me.”

“I’m starting to think you like being chased.”

Penelope raises her brow unimpressed but it’s hard not to return the smirk she catches at the corner of Hope’s mouth. She’s leaning back against one of the neighboring trees, her foot is raised up against the trunk and she looks different without the uniform, less preppy.   

She’s quiet for a moment, and then Penelope pulls up a few blades grass with one hand. She avoids Hope’s eyes when she says, “I was kind of expecting someone else.”

Hope drops her hand over her heart and dramatically fains insult, “you’re not satisfied with my company?”

“It’s mediocre, at best,” she says and there’s a quick flash of something in Hope’s eyes, but then she breaks and just laughs.

“Josie’s tending to Lizzie, her ego’s a little bruised,” Hope tells her and rolls her eyes like she’s _that_ easy to read.

“Just her ego? That’s a shame.”

Hope just smirks and then drops down next to Penelope when she shuffles over and they share her jacket. She found a quiet spot not far from where they met, a little further uphill than the clearing, but it’s still out of the way. She can just about see the roof of the Salvatore Building over the tops of the trees.

“I really don't know what I did to pissed her off,” Penelope snorts.

“Don’t try and attach reason to Lizzie Saltzman’s motives, you’ll drive yourself crazy,” Hope says and she wonders exactly how long they’ve known each other, and if Hope knows as much about Alaric. She considers asking whether she thinks he would spill Penelope’s secrets to Lizzie, but she’s pretty sure she already knows he wouldn’t. 

“Too late,” Penelope sighs.

“She’ll get bored of you eventually.” Hope shrugs, and runs her hands down her thighs. Penelope can't help notice how good she looks in jeans.  

“Will she?”

“Maybe not.”

They're both silent for a beat, and then they're laughing like they have this inside joke together. She almost believes she isn’t so outnumbered.

She takes a moment and tilts her head back, closing her eyes, and she forgets where she is, even who she was with. For those few seconds, she was home, her feet on the hot sand, the sun in her eyes. No responsibilities, no one forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to do, or be someone she wasn’t.

They somehow get on the topic of high school and she’s forced to pull out her phone and flick through some old pictures, the comments are easy and Hope doesn’t force her to explain every one, so it’s painless. She seems to know where to draw the line, until one particular photo appears.

“You were a cheerleader,” Hope says, although it’s pretty fucking difficult when she’s _laughing her ass off_.

“So?”

“It’s just… the uniform suits you.”

Penelope grabs her cell and shoves it back inside her pocket. It was one semester one mortifying mistake, “I looked hot.”

Hope gives her this knowing look, her eyes opening wide, “You still have it.”

The thought makes her cheeks burn. 

“Fuck you,” she says and glares at Hope while she laughs for like five minutes. Penelope doesn’t really know her yet, so she lets her go on a little longer than usual, but still. The idea of her as a cheerleader isn’t _that_ funny.

Once Hope eventually composes herself they mutually agree to get eat somewhere _off_ school grounds, so Hope shows her around town and lazily explains her favorite places without too much detail until they find a place that she swears by. They share a pizza between them and it was good, _really_ good. So she decides to get a second to go. Hope doesn’t ask her why, she’s pretty sure it’s obvious.

 

 

 

 

 

Her bedroom is totally empty when she gets back so she takes the opportunity for a long shower. She's relieved to find that nobody else felt the whim for a late night shower and turns up the heat until the water is hot enough to scald the day off of her. By the time she gets changed into pajamas and returns to her room, it’s dark and she finds Josie in the same place she’d found her previous night: sprawled on her bed. Except she's helped herself to a slice of pizza.

“What if I hadn’t bought that for you?” Penelope smirks, glancing over her roommate who seems to be enjoying the late night snack.

Josie lets out this breathy laugh and she gives her this look and raises her eyebrow, sending a sudden jolt of heat down her spine. Still, there’s some color to her cheeks and she’s hesitating to take another bite just in case she read the situation wrong, “you left the box on _my_ bed.”  

“It's my peace offering.”

“It’s cold.”

 _Ungrateful,_ ” she snorts, and dumps her dirty clothes in the wash basket and climbs onto the bottom of Josie’s bed without warning. She leans her back against the wall and crosses her legs at the ankles, “It’s my olive branch for this morning, I’m trying to be your friend or whatever.”

“You give cold pizza to all your friends?”

“Only the cute ones," she says and blows her a kiss.  

Josie chokes on the piece she’d just swallowed and scowls. “Hey—I,” she stops to take a breath and she’s suddenly blushing like crazy. She can identify a compliment then. “What would I have to do to get fresh pizza?”  

Penelope tilts her head, feeling a flutter somewhere deep in her stomach. “That’s reserved for a different type of friend.”

Josie’s glances around the dimly lit room. There’s some eighties pop music pounding through the wall from one of the neighboring bedrooms, it’s not really loud enough to infiltrate their conversation but there’s a beat that’s matching the steadily increasing thump in her chest. 

Finally, Josie’s eyes find Penelope’s face again, “What kind of friend?”

“Why do you ask so many questions?”

“I’m an inquisitive creature.”

Penelope rolls her eyes and corrects her, “You’re annoying,” but it doesn’t seem to affect Josie’s curious gaze in the slightest. She didn't expect to find someone worth her energy but the more she gets to know Josie, the more she surprises her, and the more she's drawn in. There's a certain innocence in her eyes, but she can tell there's something more and she so wants to be the one to figure it out. 

Her roommate just bites her bottom lip and her eyes blatantly roam over her legs. She commends herself for picking a dress that rides up a little on the thigh, “So, do your conquests get lukewarm pizza?”

“Who even says _conquests?_ ” Penelope scoffs out of pure incredulity. 

“Did you leave any special _friends_ back home?” Josie shrugs, her expression blank and completely unreadable. Her curious confidence totally catches her off-guard. Penelope doesn't even know what to say to that.

“I wasn't dating anyone if that's what you're asking.”

Josie laughs at her response and gives a knowing look. “Oh. _Okay_.”

Is she fucking blushing? Penelope feels like she's blushing. She waits for Josie to say more, but it seems like the conversation was over, and fuck that.

“What does _that_ mean?”

Josie just smiles through a shrug. “I don’t know. I guess—it makes sense that you’d be the type that shuns commitment.”

“What makes you think I’m _that_ type?” Penelope snaps, more than a little offended because it’s only been a hot minute and Josie already thinks she knows her. There's plenty of things she keeps to herself for this very reason, the more you open up to someone, the more right they to judge you. 

“I didn’t mean it like _that_. It’s just…” she hesitates and glances at Penelope. “I mean, c’mon. It’s just that you’re really pretty. I’m sure plenty of guys are into you, right?”

Penelope stares back at her, completely baffled at where she was going with this. It sounds like a compliment but she’s certain it’s not, “What if they are?” she deflected, and Josie laughs again and it fills the room for a brief moment, lifting Penelope’s heart in her chest.

“So, you’re _totally_ that girl,” Josie says it like it’s a fact.

The thought echoes in her head a few times, because she silences it with a verbal reply. 

"You're kind of an asshole." Penelope says, and when Josie’s eyes widen, only _then_ does she smirk, “it’s cute.”

Josie’s blushing when she looks back at the pizza box in the middle of the bed. It's stupid, but Penelope feels like they're even now, or something.

“Was I right?”

“You’re _way_ off.”

She eyes Penelope for a moment, analyzing her. Josie lifts an eyebrow and the corner of her lips in a quiet challenge, "then prove me wrong Penelope Parks." 

"I can't," she whispers, and her breath goes a bit unsteady.

She painfully swallows against the lump that’s lodged itself in her throat. Her eyes are locked with Josie's, who really, is just staring back. They fall into a silence that should've turned awkward almost immediately. She knows that Josie is dying to say more and Penelope just waits for it with a questioning look.

“Well.” Josie’s voice brings her back to this world. “It’s getting late.”

Penelope just nods with a tight-lipped smile and picks herself up off Josie’s bed and climbs into her own. She lets Josie move the pizza box from her bed before she turns off the lamp and _now_ the weird silence fills the room, it's like they forgot how to talk. She lies there and the minutes stretch long without the reprieve of sleep. The struggles of the day still cling to her and she’s restless, her mind tired but her body prickling with an uncomfortable heat, and no amount of rolling around relaxes her.

It’s only when she thinks Josie is asleep that she hears a quiet, “Sweet dreams, Penelope,” and her breath is momentarily trapped in her lungs.

“Cool,” she blurts, and snaps her eyes shut. _Smooth._  She bites down on her lip and runs her fingers through her hair, willing herself to sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

The morning comes way too early, it comes with a bright beam of sunlight that hits her square in the face and when she opens her eyes, she realizes the other bed is empty and the sheets were made. Josie had left, and the _bitch_ left the curtains open. Penelope tries to sleep in and delay the inevitable, but when an envelope is pushed under the door her curiosity gets the best of her. 

It’s her schedule, with a few minor instructions on how to find each of the rooms. It’s mostly the same basic mundane classes, with three or four more exciting additions. There’s a small list of reading material on the back and she finds all of them on Josie’s bookshelf. She takes each of them down one by one and scans the covers, just to give herself some idea of what she's in for. 

The rest of the weekend goes off without another incident and she can credit that to the notable lack of Saltzman’s. Penelope sits with Hope during dinner and they part ways afterward. She’s not sure they’re friends exactly, but she’s found an ally, which is more than she arrived with.

Once she returns to her room she finds herself alone again. 

She waits up for a while, expecting Josie to return, but she doesn’t and Penelope falls asleep wondering if she did something wrong.

 

 

 

 

 

It's a lot different without all the soft noises Josie makes when she gets ready and Penelope isn’t sure if it’s a good different, or not. She catches herself staring at the bed just across from her, which doesn’t look slept in at all. It hits her that she might wind up having a single room after all. 

She does notice how late she is to breakfast when she relies on her own alarm, and not the pretty roommate to wake her up.  

Her first class was a History lecture and she immediately glances around the room for Josie, but her roommate's name is never spoken during roll call. She has to wonder if she’s been stuck with all of the dregs because when she enters the room and finds a seat, her teacher makes a point to pick her out and she’s assured that she can catch up with the rest of the class. 

It’s humiliating, but she doesn’t let it show.

The majority of the lesson was spent taking laborious notes on WWI, a topic which she covered during her _freshman_ year. Penelope zones out sometime around the start of a wildly boring discussion on Archduke Franz Ferdinand and she resorts to doodling cartoon caricatures of her classmates in the small margin of her notebook. They’re given a pop quiz at the end of class and she gets a wild kick of pleasure when her paper comes back with a _10/10_ scrawled on the top.

The rest of the day was frankly, terrible. Penelope missed the first half of her Healing class, and when she finally found the fucking room, it basically turned out to be a kindergarten-esque circle with a plastic skeleton in the middle where they took turns naming the bones in the body.

After that was lunch, except it wasn’t actually _her_ lunch period, so she accidentally skips her Physics class and spends forty-five minutes drinking a chocolate milk alone. Once it’s actually her lunch period, she finds her tiny roommate is still missing, leaving her with only one other viable table. The rest all have at least four or more people sat around and she hates being outnumbered. She finds a table with two girls sat together, huddled over a book on the side furthest from her. She quickly identifies one as a vampire, and the other girl was no doubt a witch. They seem harmless enough.

They’re both focused on the text and don’t notice her until she stands nearby and works up the courage to ask, “Hey, is anyone sitting with you? I’m kind of new.”

Penelope holds her breath as they look at her, hoping they’d take some pity on her.

One of the girls raises her eyebrows. “You wanna sit with us?” And then it’s the others turn to let out this sarcastic laugh. Then they both proceeded to ignore her.

Her cheeks were red hot and she feels a wave of embarrassment coursed through her veins. She quickly glances around the cafeteria in search of a table she could just eat at alone. And, abruptly, she notices how all the tables around the were occupied by the same groups of people, the same _species,_  with the exception of the girls sitting in front of her. 

Penelope clears her throat and tries again. “Look, um… I really am new. I guess maybe I just don’t get how things work around here yet but—”

The girl laughs at her there. “You got that right.”

“Well, I’m all about breaking down barriers.” She says, raising a fist weakly, and they both eyed her like she was fucking crazy, but the girls lean in close and exchange a quick set of hushed whispers. Eventually, they give her a break. 

“Go ahead,” her friend sighs in response and they kind of chuckle at her as she hastily moved to take on the other end of the table.

Penelope doesn’t try and make conversation, because the girls lower their voices to a whisper and it’s blatantly obvious they don't want to include in their discussion. They seem guarded and she kind of respects their privacy, but she can't resist watching when the witch attempt a casual spell Penelope knows and smirks when she gets it wrong.

 

 

 

 

 

Botany was her last class of the day and possibly her favorite. Josie catches her attention immediately in the middle of the room, she’s sitting with Lizzie and Hope and the moment she sees Josie’s eyes on her, she drops her gaze away, to the patterned floor instead, as if she was never looking in the first place. She stares at the same spot until the teacher prompts her.  

“Find a seat, Miss Parks.”

There’s an empty seat right by Hope and she doesn’t know if they expected her to join them, but she does know they certainly didn’t expect her to take up the seat that she did. There was a guy sitting off to the side alone, he had jet-black hair styled in an afro. He sported a general look that could be described as nothing other than “total nerd.”

At any rate, he looked lonely and sitting beside him beat her alternative option. Josie shot her a confused look, but Lizzie distracted her, whispering something in her ear and giving Penelope a conspiratorial glance. She catches the way Josie bites down her lip when one of the nearby girls giggle and Penelope turns away.

Their assignment for that day was a to correctly identify a small set of herbs, which seemed easy enough. The teacher was a friendly woman, possibly hitting her fifties. She began by introducing herself for Penelope’s benefit and went on to make an impassioned speech on harnessing the Earth’s innate power. It would’ve been impressive, had she been talking about anything other than _plants_.

She handed out the papers and each person was given a small potted plant, courtesy of their botany gardens. They each had two minutes to identify the plant and then pass them to the next person in line. A spike of amusement shoots through Penelope’s focus when she notices the tiny Vervain sitting on one of the vampire students desks and she chuckles softly when he pushes the pot with the tip of his finger to the far side of his desk.

Josie and Lizzie spend most of the class talking in hushed whispers, but Josie gets right to the assignment and almost seems to ignore her sister. 

Penelope spends the first ten minutes staring at the back of Lizzie’s head and waits for the perfect time to generate a small force to push Lizzie’s pen and scratch a hard, messy line straight across her paper. Predictably, it gains her furious attention and the accusation must be at the tip of the blonde's tongue, but she snaps her eyes back to her little pot of _Sage_ before anyone can notice and hides her smirk when Lizzie has to ask for a fresh piece of paper.

They’re about halfway through the task when she catches the guy sat beside her is whispering to himself, running the names of herbs he recognizes through his head, but struggle with the one directly in front of him. She takes pity on him when it reaches six and he’s still without a few answers on his sheet.

“Mugwort,” she whispers and sends him a quick wink when he meets her eye.

He blinks at her and looks a little taken aback that she’d spoken, but he still scribbles down the answer faithfully and when he’s done he offers her a kind smile, “thanks.”

Penelope shrugs and glances down at her own paper again, but she can feel him watching her and when she turns her head, he leans forward.

“I swear I’m normally better than this.”

She shrugs, “I doubt a lot of vampires rely on the use of herbs.”

He looks surprised that she figured him out so quickly, but honestly, it was mostly an educated guess after she realized he wasn’t a witch. He had to be vampire or werewolf and she has him figured out when a little pot of Blue Rocket passes over his desk and he strokes his finger over the leaf. 

“I’m MG.”

“Penelope.”

She watches him reach out and shoots her a toothy grin when he wiggles his fingers, awaiting her hand, but she makes a point to fold her arms and turn back to the front of the classroom instead of shaking his hand. It doesn’t seem to discourage him.   

“Aren’t you going to ask what MG’s short for?”

“No,” she says totally disinterested and rolls her eyes when his eyes narrow slightly, like he’s trying to understand her. 

They spent the rest of the class period whispering answers to each other, from time to time she lets him figure it out for himself and allows him a win. They finish their papers long before the bell rings signaling the end of the class and she spends the rest listening to MG talk about his first day at the school and afterward she somehow feels like less of a screw-up. She decides she likes his company, but she definitely doesn’t tell him so.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s surprisingly late when the bedroom door opens and there’s a set of clumsy, blind footsteps leading to the wardrobe. Penelope has to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing when she hears the little hushed expletive fall from Josie’s lips when she stubs her toe.

She lies there, silently listening to Josie’s movements as she changes into her sleepwear and struggles over to her bed. She really doesn’t mean to smile, but she’s pleased she came back.

“Penelope?” Josie asks, when she’s finally tucked underneath her bed sheets, her voice is just loud enough when she adds, “are you awake?”

“No,” she whispers, and closes her eyes when her roommate leans over to switch the lamp on.

She can feel Josie’s eyes watching her, “you’re _totally_ awake.”

Penelope cracks another smile and shakes her head. Josie lets out a soft breathy giggle, and then covers her mouth with her hand, which makes her feel like she’s been punched in the heart or something. This girl is precious.

“What do you want?” She asks, rolling onto her side and she watches her roommate copy the movement until they’re face to face, with just the small gap between the beds to separate them.

Penelope steels herself and nods at Josie— _just say it_. Josie still pauses for a second before answering.

“Are we friends?”

Penelope is silent. Nobody has ever asked so directly before, in truth, she doesn't think anyone has asked her something like that, _ever_. She doesn’t know what the hell to say and Josie just stares back with unwavering eyes and swallows. There’s this hopeful look in Josie’s eyes that breaks her heart, because she’s pretty sure she’s going to let her down, and she wonders about all the ways she could corrupt this innocent angel.

“I like you,” she blurts out before she can stop herself and feels herself blush and she hopes that it’s dark enough to keep that reality hidden. "So yeah, we're friends."

"I like you too, Penelope." 

They fall into a comfortable silence and eventually, Josie turns off the light. Penelope lies there for a while, but the moments tick by without the promise of sleep. She watches the steady rise and fall of Josie’s chest and her eyes begin to droop. 

She doesn’t really know what possesses her to do it, but in the darkness, she finds the courage to whisper.  _“_ _Sweet dreams.”_

There’s a fraction of a second where she thinks she’s gotten away with it, but then Josie’s breath catches and a wave of nausea rises up in Penelope’s throat, mixed with embarrassment and fear, filling the vacuum in her chest.

She rolls over to face the wall, her back to Josie and she covers her embarrassment with a fake cough that just makes things worse because Josie just lets out a soft snort and whispers back an infuriating one-word reply, “Cool.”

And Penelope just lies there and wonders if this could get any worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so how did you guys find the last episode, any theories on whether Penelope will be back? 
> 
> find me at @captainwebby on tumblr!


	3. Chapter Three

It’s an abnormally hot day for Virginia — according to the news, and the fact she contemplated even putting on a bra that morning — so nobody really questions the general lack of effort from the student body. She doesn’t know why her last class isn’t canceled, it's a Friday and everyone and their mother is aware it’s too hot to be exercising in the scorching heat. The majority of her class is sprawled across the field in sports bras and shorts, she wonders how many people will leave with their skin a nice shade of pink and be sore in the morning. 

Penelope doesn't necessarily like to follow trends, but even she has to pull her t-shirt into a knot under her boobs because it's the kind of weather that should typically be spent naked or in air-conditioning, so she tries to get as close to the former without exposing herself. She slips in and out of a light sleep because the weather has turned everyone into fucking slugs, except _one_ of her classmates, who she really tries to ignore. Except she knows that ponytail anywhere, so why the hell is Josie running track in this heat?

She doesn't want to toy with the idea of moving from her spot on the bleachers, but she tells herself it's self-preservation. If she doesn't look out for Josie, nobody will, and she'll be awake all night while her roommate suffers with heat stroke. It's not that she cares, and those words repeat in her head as she climbs down from her spot on the bleachers and picks up Josie’s water bottle.

It doesn’t take too long for Josie to finish circling around the track and they meet somewhere in the middle. Josie’s hair curls around her face and when she wipes her face on the bottom of her shirt there’s still a touch of sweat on her brow, which shouldn’t be sexy but it is. She’s in the same tiny pair of cotton running shorts and a _Stallion_ branded tank top—all so different from her everyday attire that Penelope gets caught staring for a second too long. She’s never seen the skin of Josie’s shoulders. 

Yeah, she’s staring at Josie. Kind of a lot, actually.

But whatever, because Josie is staring at Penelope too.

“Water?”

“Please,” Jose pants, her eyebrows knitting together when she holds out her hand.  

Their fingertips brush when she passes her the water bottle and it sends an electric charged bolt down Penelope’s arm and something simmers in the pit of her stomach. She’s pretty sure she’s never been more attracted to someone in her life, and she knows she's  _never_ lost her composure like when Josie pours a small pool of her water into the palm of her hand and touches it to her neck.

Jesus Christ.

A trickle of water runs right down her throat and between her tits, and Penelope’s entire mouth fills with saliva. She’s just so fucking _pretty_ and Penelope is dying to reach out and push the hair of Josie’s shoulder and touch her lips to her neck.

“You realize you're wasting a free period,” Penelope says and gestures around the track to the girls sunbathing on the field, they must’ve come prepared because not one girl is without a pair of sunglasses, they have the right idea. "You won't get written up for slacking off."   

“I thought you were just lazy.”

Penelope tilts her head and challenges her with a look, and the beating of her heart drowns out the chatter in her brain, “I'm not lazy. I just don’t _run_.”

“Don’t or _can’t?_ ”

“I can run in a survival situation.”

She doesn’t know where Josie gets her sudden spark of confidence, but she leans forward and her lips graze Penelope’s ear, and whether it was intentional or not, it’s just about the sexiest thing she’s ever experienced. Her breath is caught in her throat until Josie finally whispers, “prove it.”

“You fight dirty,” Penelope laughs, all flustered and confused. She's pretty sure this is life or death, so. This was just her survival instincts kicking in. 

Josie smiles when she pulls herself away and then she’s running in the opposite direction. There’s so many things about Josie Saltzman that don’t add up and Penelope desperately wants to figure out every one of them, which is the _only_ reason why she follows after her. She doesn’t quite catch up, but she tells herself it’s because of the nice view she has from the back and not because Josie is a little fucking machine. Penelope isn't half bad and she's stubborn enough to prove her point, so she keeps her legs moving even after they start to feel heavy. After a while, she loses herself in the repetitiveness and the hypnotic thrum of her footsteps helps to clear her wandering mind. 

“So your legs _do_ work,” comes a familiar voice, breaking through the haze of monotony.

“When motivated,” Penelope calls and she catches the way Josie slows to glance over her shoulder, she can feel her face burning in the sun and she really hopes she doesn’t look as overheated as she feels. 

“You’re _walking_ ,” Josie scoffs and moves ahead, her eyes alight with amusement.

Penelope clamps her lips together and increases her pace, trying to harder to keep up while Josie laughs and speeds up again, taunting her. She drops her shoulders and bursts into a full-blown sprint.

They race each other around the track, jostling and giggling. Penelope manages to keep up with her for half a lap or so before the length of Josie’s strides allows her to break away. There’s a moment where Penelope contemplates whether Josie is actually a robot, but then she raises her arms in a V above her head when she crosses the imaginary finish line and that level of cute can’t be programmed.  

Josie waits for her on the same spot they started, marked by her luminous neon pink water bottle, and she’s watching her with an eyebrow raised. She has this little gleam in her eye and it makes Penelope wonder what’s running through that pretty little head of hers. Penelope is so busy fantasizing that she misses whatever she says, and Josie has to repeat herself.

“Did you even try?” Josie asks, between breaths, her hand fixed on her hip. It’s cute.

“I didn’t realize it was a race,” she grins and waves her hand. Josie’s eyes narrow and there’s a stubborn pout that she just loves to see.

“Then why are you so breathless?” Josie tilts her head and looks at her so innocently.

There’s a beat and she bites down a cruder remark.

“It’s the heat,” she scoffs.

Josie giggles, which is totally what Penelope was going for and when she’s offered Josie’s water she doesn’t bother pretending to act tough. Penelope puts an inordinate amount of focus on the water bottle, slowing her breath between sips. Her mouth has suddenly run dry and she almost empties the bottle. When she’s done, she presses the bottle against her throat and watches Josie's eyes focus on her movement, because yeah, that’s what she needs.

She’s totally staring at Penelope’s tits. She’s not imagining it. Josie’s eyes are on Penelope’s chest. They’re nice boobs, so she’s used to people looking, but she’s hyper-aware of it right now, and sue her for adjusting the strap of her tank top just to make Josie’s face flush. There’s a short whistle from the bleachers and the class is dismissed. The track quickly empties out quickly, everyone is ready to start the weekend, but neither Josie or Penelope move. There’s a sudden shift that drags Penelope back to reality.

“I like your hair like that," Penelope says and meets Josie’s eyes, then smirks, just a little bit.

“I’m all sweaty,” Josie rolls her eyes but smiles quick and it’s pretty as hell.

Penelope pokes Josie’s cheek for no reason at all, and when Josie swats her hand away they break into a laugh. It shouldn’t feel this easy. She hazards one more glance at Josie before she leaves the field, just in time to see Josie’s gaze dart away from her and she twists her hair up so it’s a little neater than the ponytail she had it in. She wonders if Josie’s ever taken a compliment without question.

“Meet you in the showers,” Penelope whispers and gently bumps Josie’s hip when she passes her. She doesn’t need to look back to know that Josie is watching her ass.

 

 

 

 

  
  
She doesn’t actually wait for Josie because as soon as she hits the shower block and looks at herself in the mirror she realizes how much a little exercise can totally destroy her. She can’t flirt while she feels like a scrub. So, Penelope takes her usual scalding shower. She dries her hair and its too hot outside to overdress, so she pulls on a loose blouse that’s cut low enough in the front to make her chest look awesome, and a skirt that shows a tiny bit more of her legs. Penelope is in the middle of fixing her hair when the door to the locker room swings open and she doesn’t know how she missed Josie coming in, but she’s standing there in a damp towel and nothing else. She’s only _slightly_ bitter that she can’t do anything about it.

“You’re still here,” Josie says, and Penelope is just staring, because _legs_.

“Worried I’d leave without you?”

“That’s not the word I was thinking of.”

Penelope smirks, arching her brow in a way that makes Josie roll her eyes. She doesn’t try and get a real answer and quietly watches Josie’s routine. Penelope finds herself leaning her back against the lockers, her arms folding across her chest when Josie pulls out a dress that’s too nice for just casual wear. She catches the way Josie hesitates, her fingers toying with the edge of her towel.  

She snaps her eyes shut before she’s told.

“Penelope—” Josie says, but cuts herself off, and Penelope can’t help but grin. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Penelope gasps, feigning insult. She can hear that dumb, but _pretty_ pout.

“You were thinking it loud enough.”

There’s some movement and she lets her imagination run wild for those short few moments in the dark and then Josie clears her throat, giving her permission to re-open her eyes. When she does she realizes that Josie’s still barely clothed, her dress is unzipped at the back is folded open. Penelope can see the black lace bra underneath. Just one flick of the wrist and she could have it unclasped.

Josie totally catches her staring and flushes. It makes Penelope’s chest hurts in the best way ever and her body feels warm when she whispers, “hey.”

“Hi,” Josie says, and clears her throat, gesturing to the back of her dress, “can you—”

“You look pretty,” Penelope blurts and her eyes go wide when she realizes how stupid she must sound. Her lack of tact around Josie was endlessly frustrating.

“I’m not wearing any makeup,”

“You can’t see yourself, I can.”

Josie just stares at her, like she’s trying to figure out if she’s sincere, and like fuck whatever put that doubt in her mind. She looks _good_. She closes the distance between them and zips up her dress quickly. It startles Josie, who most likely expected some teasing. She starts to style Josie’s hair and Josie’s shoulder drop and she finally starts to relax. Eventually she tells her to turn and they’re stood with inches between their faces, Josie looks back at her with sudden concern.

“I mean it,” Penelope whispers, before Josie can start to question her, “you’re beautiful.”

Josie stares at her for a moment, swallow visibly. Then, so quickly that Penelope would later convince herself she’d imagined it, Josie’s gaze flickers down to her lips.

There’s a quiet buzz from Josie’s bag and they both pull away at the same time. Of course the locker room is one of the only places on campus where you can get a fucking signal.

“I should go,”

“Yeah.”

 

 

 

 

She makes plans with Hope because she refuses to be the only one that spends her Friday night alone. Hope goes along with it and doesn’t ask too many questions, so it totally works. They sit side by side on her bed, their backs against the wall and they flick through the music on her phone. She occasionally makes a comment on Penelope's taste and she has to defend a few choices, but she's had the same library since she was like eleven. 

They make plans to grab dinner when they eventually get bored and decide to test out the new Thai place that’s opened up in town.

The waiter hits on Hope as soon as they sit down, and Penelope doesn’t really care or anything, but like, back off. Penelope rolls her eyes at him the moment his attention turns to her, because they can both do a lot better than some guy with a douchey haircut and an obnoxious smile. He isn’t that cute and she wouldn’t peg him as Hope’s type. They haven't talked about it before, and she finds herself suddenly curious. 

“Don’t get us kicked out,” Hope snorts, once the boy disappears with their order.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You rolled your eyes at him.”

“Reflex,” she shrugs. If Hope’s annoyed, she doesn’t show it. 

Penelope takes the chance to scroll through Facebook when Hope disappears to the toilets and there's a new notification in the top corner of the screen. It's a friend request, four of them, actually. She has one from Josie, another from MG, and the girls she sits with at lunch. Her heart leaps a little when she finds herself on Josie's profile and she feels like she's intruding somehow, even if she was practically invited to look. The most recent post is a picture of her and Lizzie, and two other guys all squeezed together for a selfie. The caption reads: "double date" and she closes her phone before Hope returns.  

The waiter comes back shortly after with their drinks and once again completely ignores Penelope, which would be fine on any other given day, but she’s feeling particularly clingy. Hope doesn’t even seem taken by the guy and tries to politely ignore him, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint. Penelope, however, is past being polite and she almost loses her temper when he asks Hope if she’s going to the _Movie in the Square_ and all but invites himself as her date.

There’s a candle in the middle of the table and waves her hand over the wick, whispering under her breath. It ignites and all she has to do is push it across the table. It could totally catch his sleeve, but Hope’s eyes go wide and she looks all _scandalized_ so she doesn’t. She gets a solid boot to her shin and Hope finally finds some fucking words when she realizes how close Penelope is to committing arson, and she says, “I don’t think my girlfriend likes sharing.”

The waiters eyes finally find her again, just for a second. Then Hope’s eyes flicker to the dip in the neckline of Penelope’s shirt with a playful glint. She wasn’t stupid. Penelope knew what that look meant and she knows she looks smug, even with a deep blush tinting her cheeks.

“I really don’t,” she says, and they somehow keep it together long enough to hold back their laughter until the poor boy leaves. And that’s that.

“He’s not getting a tip,” Hope whispers, sipping her water.

Their food arrives and this time it’s a different waiter that doesn’t even bother to make small talk and she’s pretty sure she catches Hope slipping him a $20 when they leave.

They crash the movie screening after dinner because it's on the way back to school and curfew isn't for a few more hours. It’s some Ryan Gosling movie she’s never seen and she’s pretty sure it’s some fucked up message from the universe, but she goes with it. She even pays for their popcorn and drinks and not _just_ because Hope covered the bill for dinner.

They walk side by side and there’s an arm looped through hers as they wind between teenage couples and blankets to find an empty space. It's cooler now the sun has set, but she's still overtly aware of how hot her skin feels. They come across a few faces she recognises from class and Hope shuffles in close to whisper their names so she doesn’t look stupid. There’s nowhere else to sit so they join the girls. Except that's when she sees Josie in the middle of the crowd and it makes her stop, she kind of expected to find her, this is totally her thing, but she didn’t expect to see her alone.

“Is that Josie?” Hope whispers and tugs on her arm, even though it’s way too hot to be standing that close. She can feel Hope’s breath against her cheek.

“Where?” Penelope asks, pretends like she hasn’t just been staring and tries to seem surprised when her eyes land on her roommate again. Hope totally sees through her and just scoffs.     

“Isn't she meant to be on a date?”

“What?”

“Lizzie set them up,” Hope says, because of course she  was responsible.

On cue, Josie turns and looks around and catches Penelope’s eye over her shoulder. There are a bunch of people walking between them, but neither look away. She doesn’t know if that look is out of Jealousy, or disappointment, and she’s left wondering after Josie turns around again. There’s a thumb by the corner of her lips and she doesn’t know what’s the fucks happening until Hope swipes it away and smirks.

“You’re drooling.”

She scoffs and slaps her hand away, “I was _not_ drooling.” She's pretty sure she wasn't anyway. 

Hope just hums, and she lets their arms drop with a little smirk. “it’s fine, go save your damsel.”

Penelope doesn’t make a habit of bailing on her friends, especially considering the scene she almost caused at dinner, but Hope nudges her away and smiles. She has this look in her eye and Penelope wonders what Hope thinks of it all, but she doesn't dwell on it and just promises to make it up to her, “forgive me?”

“Sure, but I want details,” she says, but then Hope kisses her cheek and slides the bag out of her arms, “and your popcorn.”

 

 

 

 

 

The concession stand is packed with sweaty, impatient people all yelling at the greasy teenager juggling a mountain of orders. She almost forgets what she's even doing there by the time she makes it to the front and she regrets making the effort, but when she reaches Josie and holds the fresh bag of popcorn under Josie’s nose, her eyes light up and it suddenly seems worth standing in line for those long ten minutes, “I was going to bring you flowers, but it’s not my style.”

She doesn’t wait for an invitation and collapses by Josie on the grass, her hands slide across the fabric of her skirt to straighten it out and she hopes it doesn't stain because god knows where people go shopping in Mystic Falls — she's not really a thrift store kind of girl. There’s a tiny upwards curl by the corner of Josie’s lips and Penelope can tell she’s trying not to smile, “popcorn’s nicer.”

“Where’s your date?” Penelope asks, leaning back on her hands, her fingers pick at the blades of grass. She keeps her head forwards on the blank screen, even though she can feel Josie’s eyes on her. She’s probably wondering who blabbed, if it wasn’t already obvious, but it's not like it was a well kept secret. She did leave the evidence all over social media. 

“Where’s yours?” Josie says in this accusatory way.

Penelope rolls her eyes, “she’s not my date.”

“You have her lipstick on your cheek,” Josie says and pokes her finger in the exact place Hope’s lips had just been. Sure enough, when she wipes her cheek there’s a deep shade of red left on the tissue. _Cheeky_.  

There's a pause and then Josie gets back on topic and looks down like she’s embarrassed, “He went home. He said he didn’t really like the movie.”

“Oh. Okay.” 

They sit in silence for a few seconds, and Penelope turned back toward the movie, she doesn’t register the trailers on the screen at all. She was trying to wrap her head around the concept of someone leaving Josie behind. She got dressed up for this and she’s here _alone_. The movie hasn't even fucking started yet. 

“And Lizzie?”

“I didn’t feel like third wheeling.”  

Penelope doesn’t know what to say, so she just clamps her mouth shut until the lights around the square start to dim and the movie is introduced. The quiet chatter comes to a stop and she’s suddenly aware of how loud her heart is beating. Josie doesn’t ask her to leave and they spend most of the movie silent in each others company. Their hands sometimes brush when they both reach for the popcorn at the same time. 

“You’re eating all the popcorn,” Penelope whispers and when Josie looks down, she sees the half-eaten bag on her lap and even in the dark she can see the light blush on her cheeks.

“You bought it for _me_ ,”

“To share,”

Josie smirks and holds the bag a little further away. “I wasn’t going to,” she lies, and Penelope just rolls her eyes.

Penelope sits up a little more, then, and when Josie goes to lift another piece of popcorn to her mouth, she reaches out and catches her by the wrist. She heard the little gasp and if anything, it just encourages her to pull Josie’s hand and closes her mouth around her tip of her thumb and index finger, while Josie watches silently.

“I was going to eat that,” Josie says after, but her voice is all low.

Penelope slides her tongue along her bottom lip and blinks slowly, “Whatever.”

It’s not until she finds her hand situated on Josie’s thigh that she starts thinking it was a bad idea to sit so close. It could turn bad really fast, but Josie isn’t stopping her, either, so she’s so close to doing something really stupid. Josie’s lips graze Penelope’s ear once when she recites her favorite line, and it sends a bolt down Penelope’s spine. She can’t be the only one to feel the chemistry between them. She slides her hand a little higher on Josie’s leg, and their eyes meet, she’s pretty sure she’s going to get a head shake or something, and she watches her lips for any sign of rejection.

Josie doesn’t push her away, so she slips her hand up higher and draws a wonky ass star with her finger tip. She feels Josie’s breathy chuckle and doesn’t know what to do with that, so she lets her hand drop. If she doesn’t, she knows she won’t want to stop herself and they both go back to staring straight ahead at the screen like they were never touching.

The movie turns out to be better than she expect and they’re both crying by the end, which is mortifying. Josie hands her a tissue, because of course she’s prepared. She wonders how many times she's seen it and if Josie is really the hopeless romantic she thinks she is.

They’re both a mess when the square lights up but at least she’s not alone in this. There’s a few post-tear mascara marks on Josie’s cheek and Penelope reaches up and uses her thumb to wipe them away. Her roommate does this little giggle. It’s too much.

On the way home, Josie doesn’t shut up. She compares her favorite parts of the movie and recites the lines she has memoried. She’s generally adorable. They’re waiting for the hoard of slow-moving strangers to get the fuck out of the way when she feels Josie’s hand slip into hers. She’s not sure who reached out first, just that Josie holds on so tight she’s not sure she’ll be able to let go.

“Do you trust?” Penelope asks, and she don’t know why, really.

“Yeah,” Josie tells her and nods quickly, before she even really has time to think about it and Penelope pulls her in a different direction. 

 

 

 

 

 

“You’re okay,” Penelope tells her quietly, and squeezes her hand. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“Where are we going?” Josie asks, her eyes darting around and she jumps slightly every time there’s a noise somewhere in the distance. They’re using the torches on their phones to guide them and they can see just beyond their own feet. Josie hits her arm when she stands on a particularly big twig and it snaps underneath her foot. Josie actually squeals and Penelope bites back the chuckle caught in her throat. 

“Out to the woods,” she explains and nods to the cluster of trees in front of them.

“Why?”

“Because what I’m showing you is in there.”

“Are you a serial killer?” Josie asks her, but doesn’t sound that concerned. They were surrounded by killers. They live with a heap of students all bound by the werewolf curse, which everyone knows is triggered by causing a humans death, and god knows there must be a dozen vampires that lost control before attending the boarding school.

“Maybe that’s why I’m here,”

“We don’t scout serial killers,” Josie scoffs and then pauses, like she’s really thinking about it and Penelope can imagine the way she must be pouting. “At least I don’t think we do.”

She laughs, probably a little too hard.

“I’m sure my family is relieved for the I'll defined regulations,” Penelope says, playing along. She remembers sitting at the dining room table when the pamphlets for the boarding school were dropped on her lap. 

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, people send their kids here when they’re causing problems, you know? They don’t want to deal, so they give them up.”

“You’re here because we can help you,” Josie whispers and she almost believes her.

She's become pretty complacent in the two weeks she's spent at the boarding school. She doesn't even skip class anymore. To her credit, skipping class would just mean doing nothing except wait for it to be over, and it was never like that back home. There was always something better to do. Penelope skipped classes to have fun, or cause a little trouble, or she simply didn't go at all because she'd rather stay home. 

Penelope arrived at the Salvatore school with the expectation of being an asshole, but it took so much less effort to just half-listen in class, rather than sit around for ninety minutes doing nothing. Plus, the majority of her schedule was built up of classes she found interesting — to her surprise. She was good at magic and _here_ that was an achievement. 

“Yeah, but I could tell,” Penelope tells her. “I guess maybe he— _they_ , I mean, felt bad, but they were still ready for me to go.” 

“I’m sure they love you.” Josie says, and then pauses. “And they’d be sad if you murdered your roommate in the woods.”

Penelope forces a laugh and goes silent after that, thinking about why she can’t open up to Josie about her mom, and more importantly, why she even wants to. Before she knows it, they hit a break in the trees and Josie slows to a stop beside her. When Penelope’s finally gotten herself together, she gestures to the clearing and the her eyes slip up to the open sky littered with stars. She never got a few like this back home, it's one of the few things she likes about living in the middle of nowhere. 

“Here we are.”

Josie just stares at her with this unimpressed frown that Penelope honestly doesn’t think she deserves when she pulled the most romantic gesture of her fucking life.

“You brought me to the make out spot.” Josie says bluntly, "Isn't that a little cliché?" 

“What?”

“What?”

Penelope’s jaw drops and it must occur to Josie that she has no idea what she’s talking about because her roommate giggles. Instead of being offended like she should be, she finds herself laughing with her and lets her hair fall in her face so Josie can't see her blushing. She was going to kill Hope for not sharing that dint detail with her. 

“Why did you showing me this?”

She’s quiet for a moment. At last, she shrugs and makes a point to avoid Josie’s eyes when she says. “I guess— I like coming here to get away and I thought you might like it too.”

“What makes you think I need to get away?”

“Have you met your sister?”

Josie seems to sit with that thought for a while, and then whispers, "I’m pretty sure a girl from my class lost her virginity against that tree last week,” and she winces a little. Penelope just closes her eyes and pretends she didn’t hear that.

“Don ruin my happy place,”

“It’s a _very_ happy place.”

Penelope snorts, and shoves Josie’s shoulder hard enough that she slips and lands on her ass, she’s about to apologise when they lock eyes. Josie smiles first, and it’s kind of contagious, and they both end up lying on the ground next to each other laughing their asses off. They don't move from that spot, because she's pretty sure she'll never climb that hill again. Instead, they lie side by side and every now and again she points out a made up star constellation just to get a laugh from Josie. 

"There's no such thing as a dancing bear constellation," Josie whispers, but still tilts her head in the direction that Penelope is pointing. 

 

 

 

 

 

Penelope spends the rest of the night thinking about Josie. She leaves her by Lizzie’s door and Josie is pulled inside before they really get to say goodbye. She spends the walks back pretending she’s not wondering what it'd be like to drag Josie back to their bedroom. To get her out of that stupid dress and _taste_ her. Sleep is impossible and the next logical step is to grind out whatever frustration burns in her muscles and she ends up with her hands between her legs, on her bed while she thinks _all_ about it. She closes her eyes in relief and trails her fingers along her inner thigh, she feels her body react to the touch. Her hands glide up and down her body, with just enough contact to raise goosebumps and enhance the sensitivity of her skin, enough to make her body ache for more touch.

Penelope stays by her thighs, her stomach, her chest, across her neck and collarbone. Nowhere too sensitive, just enough of a tease

Vividly, she can imagine Josie’s face as it was illuminated by the streetlights below, her cheekbones accentuated by the shadows. Her full lips forming a smile as she looked down at her. 

She shouldn’t.

She really shouldn’t.

And the more she repeats that to herself, the worse it gets. Images of Josie in the dark slide into Penelope’s mind. She can see her brown eyes; she can smell the perfume she wears every day; she can feel Josie’s body heat and taste her breath mingling with her own.

She also wants to know why she can't stop thinking about her. Why she can practically feel Josie’s hands on her, everywhere. She pictures the way Josie might look at her if Penelope laid her out on her bed. She wants to know what it'd feel like to have Josie hovering over her and giving her that tiny little smile she sometimes sees directed her way. The one that makes her dizzy. 

“Oh god,” she whispers, the feeling of desire rising hot and fast from deep within her.

She dips her hand into her panties and finds herself - not surprisingly - wet, she works her nerves with her fingers, grinding her hips into her hand. She can’t tear herself away from the memory of Josie. Her shoulders and back shining with sweat on the track. Josie peeling her clothing away, just skin and skin and skin.

Penelope flips over and buries her face in her cool pillow, straining for rational thought. She’s exhausted, drained, weak. In her current state of mind, strung out as she is. The next image, unbidden, is of Josie kneeling over her with a darkness in her eyes, tongue running over her lower lip. She asks Penelope for permission. Then Josie’s warm mouth on the inside her legs, the bite of her fingernails raking down Josie’s back.

Penelope lets out a shaky exhale and comes with Josie’s name on her lips.

 

 

 

 

 

Someone took a picture of them during the event. She doesn’t remember seeing anyone with a camera but the photo is there on the towns Facebook page. Hope made a point to show up at her door first thing in the morning with all the evidence. The picture is Penelope smiling in Josie’s direction, and the girl is staring with wide heartbroken eyes at the screen.

Hope holds her phone up the second she opens the door and says, “really?” And that’s all.

She knows. She looks fucking smitten, and she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some fun with this one! How are we all feeling during the Legacies hiatus?
> 
> find me at @captainwebby on tumblr!

**Author's Note:**

> I've been slowly working on this one for a while, so I hope you enjoyed this version of events! 
> 
> if ya'll want to talk posie you can find me at @captainwebby on tumblr!


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